


The Peasant and The Shepherd

by therobotjay



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bromance to Romance, Charming Has A Filthy Mouth, M/M, Medieval Armor Is Confusing, Rimming, Roleplaying (Sort Of), mutual understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 16:26:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13574376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therobotjay/pseuds/therobotjay
Summary: Deep in the Forest of Eternal Night, Charming helps Arthur out of his armor. Then Arthur helps Charming into his bed.





	The Peasant and The Shepherd

Making their way to the toadstool was taking longer than either Charming or Arthur had anticipated. What was supposed to only have been a half day’s ride had turned most of a day, navigating the perpetual darkness of the Forest of Eternal Night.

It was impossible to tell whether it was day or night, but Charming did know that his feet were tired and they had been walking for hours with only the light of the Unquenchable Flame to illuminate their path. 

Finally, Charming stopped. “Can we make camp?” he sighed.

Arthur pulled up short, realizing that the other man was no longer following him. He turned, the light of his magical torch painting his face with its warm yellow glow.

Charming felt his heart leap, just a little. It was ridiculous, he knew, but Arthur was handsome. And since they’d both admitted to being lowborn, he felt much more relaxed around the King. Relaxed enough to let his guard down, to stop seeing him as an untouchable royal figure and start seeing him as a man. The legends he knew of King Arthur, both from the Enchanted Forest and from Storybrooke, still bounced around in his head, making him a little star-struck. But they were grounded now, with the knowledge that Arthur was more like him than he would’ve thought.

Arthur turned a circle, slowly, taking in their surroundings. “Yes, alright. I suppose this bit of forest is as good as another.” The resignation in his voice was clear; he didn’t want to stop, but conceded that they had to. Whatever might guard the Crimson Crown, they would have a much better chance of success if they were well-rested.

Charming went through the process of setting up camp without hesitation. Soon enough, a small fire was crackling, though its light barely left its flames. Arthur walked the perimeter of the clearing, his attention turned outward, looking for trouble, while Charming laid out their bedrolls on opposite sides of the campfire.

Yawning, Charming sat on his bedding, pulling off his boots. Gingerly, he rubbed at his sore feet. His time spent in Storybrooke was making him soft; there had been a time when he could walk for days without feeling it. After a few minutes of grumbling and stretching, he realized that Arthur was still standing guard.

“Are you going to rest?” he asked.

Arthur shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his back still to Charming, before replying, “I’d like to.”

“What’s stopping you? We haven’t seen a living thing since we entered the forest, I don’t think we need to set a watch.” Charming reluctantly pushed himself back to his feet and crossed to where Arthur was standing. He laid a hand on the other man’s shoulder, the touch of a comrade-in-arms. He smiled. “Come on, I’ve got your bed ready.”

“This is a bit embarrassing,” Arthur said. “But I usually have my squire with me. Several of my armor’s clasps are out of my reach. I can’t actually get out of it by myself.” Even in the dim light of the Flame, it was clear that his cheeks were pink above his dark beard.

Charming laughed. “Is that all? Here, let me help.” He squinted in the dimness, trying to figure out where all of the pieces of the King’s armor came apart.

“I can’t very well ask a Prince to help me with my armor, David,” Arthur said, still looking rather embarrassed by this whole ordeal.

Finding one of the clasps, Charming undid it. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just a shepherd boy helping his peasant friend out of his overly complicated armor.”

Arthur took a deep breath, then smiled in return. “As you say, shepherd,” he said, his voice lightly teasing.

Charming managed to get Arthur’s spaulders off without too much of a hassle. Moving around to the King’s front, he ran his hands down the other man’s sides, feeling for the releases on the cuirass, depending on his sense of touch in the poor light, his eyes downturned and half-closed in concentration.

When his fingers finally found them, he grinned, turning his face to Arthur’s in triumph. Arthur was watching him intently, from only a few inches away.

His heart pounding in his ears, Charming mumbled, “Found it.” He released the clasps and pulled the cuirass off, leaving Arthur standing in his undershirt and hauberk.

“I can manage the tassets and greaves,” Arthur said, bending to removing his leg armor.

Charming found himself sinking to his knees. “Allow me,” he said softly, already moving his hands along the sides of Arthur’s legs, searching for the seams in the armor. Now that he knew the make of the armor, it was easier to find the clasps and release them. Soon enough, he had added the tassets and greaves to the neat pile of armor near the fire.

“Thank you, my friend,” Arthur said sincerely, rolling his shoulders.

“Anytime,” Charming replied, a little too eagerly. Arthur gave him a strange look. Charming cleared his throat. “Your hauberk?”

“I can--” Arthur began but stopped short when Charming moved to help him out of it. Shrugging, he let himself be helped.

Charming could feel himself blushing as he lifted the chainmail shirt up over Arthur’s head, carefully, he didn’t want it to catch in the man’s hair. With the removal of the hauberk, Arthur was left standing in his undershirt and a pair of snug linen leggings, both of which were rather flattering to his lean frame. 

Realizing that Arthur was watching him again, Charming cleared his throat and said, “Good. Right. Now you can get some rest, too.” Nodding, he turned and took a step toward his bedroll.

Only to be pulled up short by a hand on his shoulder. Very close to his ear, Arthur said, “Not so fast, shepherd boy. You’re still in your armor.”

Charming laughed nervously. “Mine’s just leather, it’s a lot easier to get out of. I used to sleep in it most nights anyway.”

Arthur used his grip on the other man’s shoulder to turn Charming around. Very deliberately, he stuck the handle of Unquenchable Flame into the loamy earth, then moved his fingers to the lacing on the front of the Prince’s leather jerkin.

Charming’s breath caught in his throat as Arthur slowly unlaced his jerkin. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing evenly. When Arthur’s fingers slid under the leather, he had to fight down a rather undignified sort of sound.

“I like the way you look at me,” Arthur commented.

“What do you mean?” Charming asked, trying to sound innocent and failing horribly. He hadn’t thought he’d been that obvious.

Arthur smiled, pushing the leather jerkin off of the other man’s shoulders. He was still standing very close. “All of my subjects, the other knights, even my wife. When they look at me, they see a King. When you look at me, you see a man.”

“Well, of course! A crown or a throne doesn’t make a person who they are.”

“You’d know that better than most.” Arthur started unlacing the front of Charming’s leather pants.

The rush of heat to Charming’s face made him feel dizzy. He licked his lips, lips that suddenly felt very dry for some reason. “I, uhh, I can--”

“Allow me,” Arthur said, echoing Charming’s words, teasingly. He opened Charming’s leathers and hooked his thumbs in them, pushing them down over the other man’s hips. Then he dropped to one knee, pulling the leathers down, off of one foot, then the other, leaving Charming in his undergarments as well, a pair of boxer briefs that had made the trip across realms with him. 

Charming looked away, intently studying the treeline, trying to fight down the erection that was threatening. He knew if he looked down and saw Arthur on his knees, looking up at him with those pretty green eyes…

He couldn’t resist the urge to look. Just a glance, just one little glance…

Arthur was kneeling there, smirking, looking up expectantly.

Charming cleared his throat again, looking away, knowing that his body was betraying him. He was suddenly so hard that it hurt. “Right. We should, uhh, we should get to bed. Early day tomorrow, lots of walking to do, and mushrooms to find, and…”

“You’re right, of course,” Arthur said, getting to his feet and brushing the dirt off of his knees.

Even as he nodded, Charming felt a guilty little stab of disappointment. What had he even been hoping would happen? He was married, for goodness sake! And so was Arthur! And he loved Snow, as surely as Arthur loved Guinevere. It was ridiculous that he had even let himself get distracted.

But Arthur was grabbing the front of his undershirt and giving it a tug and all of Charming’s worried thoughts somehow melted away.

“We _should_ go to bed,” Arthur said, low and hot, eyeing the other man up and down. A small, smug smile turned the corner of his mouth when his gaze got to Charming’s very obvious excitement. Walking backward toward his bedroll, he dragged the other man along with him.

Charming let himself be lead. Arthur sank down onto the blankets, pulling the Prince down with him.

Suddenly, Charming found himself kneeling between Arthur’s knees, the other man’s hand still gripping the front of his shirt. Some part of his brain hesitated. “Are...are you sure about this?” he asked, not completely certain what he hoped the answer would be.

Arthur gave his shirt another little tug. “Come on, shepherd boy,” he said, his voice thick with need. His free hand pushed through Charming’s hair then moved along his jaw until he was cupping the Prince’s chin. “Treat me like a peasant, just for one night.” The longing in his words was almost painful to hear.

Charming knew how lonely it could be, to be royalty, to be held at arm’s length by everyone. Especially after growing up with the casual affection and camaraderie of the lower class.

The imploring look in Arthur’s eyes made the decision for him.

Charming leaned in, pressing his body against Arthur’s, grinding his cock against the other man’s. Tangling his fingers in the King’s soft, dark hair, he pressed their lips together, darting his tongue into his mouth. Arthur’s hips bucked eagerly underneath him.

Charming brushed his lips against the other man’s beard, relishing the sensation, before reaching his neck. Once there, ran his tongue over that sensitive skin, savoring the taste of the King’s sweat. His lips against Arthur’s ear, he nearly growled, “With pleasure.”

The sound Arthur made was needy. He gave up his grip on Charming’s shirt so he could grab onto the other man’s waist with both hands. His legs tangled with Charming’s, pulling him closer. “Don’t be afraid to leave marks,” he breathed.

Charming made a questioning noise but didn’t stop his sloppy kisses.

Arthur chuckled and gave Charming’s waist a squeeze. “I’m the King. Who would dare question me?”

Low and growling, a sound of pure desire came from Charming’s throat. He opened his mouth wider, sucking in the tender flesh right at the bend of Arthur’s neck, pushing the other man’s undershirt aside. He ran his teeth over the salty skin, sucking and biting, wondering vaguely if he was being too rough. The way Arthur’s cock twitched underneath him soothed his worries, encouraging him.

Charming pulled back, taking a deep breath, trying to maintain some little bit of composure. He was aching, breathing hard; he knew if he didn’t slow down, he couldn’t make this last nearly as long as he wanted to. To give himself some space, he pushed himself up to his knees and pulled his undershirt up over his head.

Then he made the mistake of looking down at Arthur. 

The King’s green eyes were hungry, taking in Charming’s bared torso, lit only by the flickering light of the Flame. He sat up, legs still wrapped around the Prince’s, and ran his hands over his chest, his stomach.

Charming’s eyes fluttered closed. He let himself get lost in the feeling of Arthur’s hands against his skin. The King’s fingers were calloused from years of training with a sword, his palms coarse from hilt and reigns. One rough thumb rubbed across his nipple, making him whine. Arthur made a soft, approving sound and replaced his thumb with his mouth, gently sucking at Charming’s pale nipple.

“Christ,” Charming breathed. His tangled his fingers in Arthur’s hair, not wanting him to stop.

Arthur gave him a little nip before trailing kisses farther south. He shifted to give himself a better angle, sitting back on his heels, before tugging at the top of Charming’s boxer-briefs. “These are strange,” he commented off-handedly.

Charming laughed, just a little, breathy and soft. “No offense but they’re way more comfortable than--” He cut off as Arthur kissed the head of his cock through the material, his breath hot. Charming’s fingers tightened convulsively in the King’s hair.

Smirking, Arthur pulled down the Prince’s blue Hanes. “Mmm,” he nearly purred. “Your wife is a lucky lady.”

“Make sure to tell _her_ that--” Charming gasped as Arthur wrapped one battle-worn hand around his shaft. He hadn’t thought the callouses and roughness would feel good against such sensitive skin. He was _wrong_. Arthur’s thumb trailed up the underside of his cock, making him throb.

“David?” Arthur asked, his lips dangerously close to the other man’s cock.

“Yes, Arthur?” Charming breathed. He wanted so badly to slide into that mouth that said his name so sweetly.

Arthur backed off, still smirking, to lay back on his bedroll once again. Propping himself up on one elbow, his other hand moved to his groin, stroking himself. He leaned his head back for a moment in pleasure before making eye contact with the other man once again.

Charming bit down on his bottom lip. Arthur lying there like that, hair mussed from his fingers, lips wet from wandering kisses...the sight was nearly unbearable.

“You said you’d let me be your peasant tonight,” Arthur said. There was a pleading note to his words. “But you’re being so gentle.” He ran his teeth over his lip, his eyes half-lidded and inviting. “Don’t be gentle, my shepherd boy.”

It took a few moments for Arthur’s meaning to really sink into Charming’s head. Arthur...King Arthur...Knight of the Round Table...wanted to get fucked. Hard.

Charming let out a shuddering breath. That was something he could oblige.

He pushed Arthur down, putting his weight on top of the other man. One hand cupped the King’s neck, his thumb running up his windpipe, pressing just a bit, until it came to his jaw. He tilted Arthur’s head back, exposing his throat, and growled at the sight. 

Charming took a handful of Arthur’s undershirt and yanked, tearing the fabric. Arthur moaned, arching his back into it.

“You like it when I’m rough, peasant?” Charming asked harshly.

Arthur’s eyes went wide for a moment, startled, but then he nodded eagerly.

Before he knew what exactly he was doing, Charming was pushing Arthur’s leggings down, helping him squirm out of them. The King’s cock was large and proud, as thick as his wrist.

Pausing for a beat at the sight, Charming raised an eyebrow. “Looks like you did find another way to impress me, after all.” He wrapped his hand around Arthur’s shaft, giving it a few rough strokes, loving the way Arthur writhed under his touch.

Abruptly, Charming dropped his hand and pushed himself away. “Hands and knees.” His tone brooked no argument.

Arthur’s face was smug as he rolled over and arched his lean body like a cat, presenting his ass for the Prince.

Charming thought he might cum right then. Arthur was letting himself be so...vulnerable. It was wildly erotic. He gripped the King’s ass with both hands, giving a squeeze, opening him further.

Slowly, Charming leaned forward, placing a small kiss on the man’s tailbone, not wanting to startle him. He knew very well that what he was about to do wasn’t really standard practice in this day and age.

Sure enough, Arthur asked, “What are you doing?”

Charming released his hold long enough to give Arthur’s ass a light _slap_. “Whatever I want, peasant.” Then he buried his face in the King’s ass, licking at his entrance. After a brief, surprised moment of tension, Arthur relaxed into it.

The taste of him was intoxicating. It had no right to be. All day walking through the forest had left them both sweaty. But Charming found that he loved it. The salty, tangy taste of him, how hairy he was, the unbridled moans that he was letting out.

Charming couldn’t take it anymore. He moved one hand to his own aching cock, rubbing his precum all over his own length, making himself slick. Touching himself with his tongue still lapping at Arthur’s entrance was almost enough to send him over the edge. He normally wasn’t so easy to get near the finish line.

Taking another deep, shuddering breath, he straightened up, kneeling behind Arthur, taking in the view.

Arthur was a complete mess. His hair damp and ruffled, his lips parted and panting. The slope of his back was sheened with sweat. Drops of precum stood out clearly on the blanket, beading on the moisture-resistant fabric. Slowly, he opened his eyes, glancing back at Charming. “By all that is good and holy, David, stop making me wait,” he pleaded.

Charming leaned over Arthur’s body, his cock rubbing against the other man’s ass, and grabbed a fistful of his hair. “What was that?”

“Take me, shepherd,” Arthur moaned.

“You know, you’re awfully demanding for a peasant,” Charming commented, grinning. Keeping his fist tight in Arthur’s hair, he reached between them with his free hand, guiding his cock to the King’s entrance. Carefully, he pushed forward, just a little. While he was happy to play the part of a rough, lowborn lover, he didn’t actually want to hurt his friend.

“Ahh--” Arthur gasped, his body tensing up.

Charming let go of his hair, pushing it back off of the man’s damp forehead instead. “Relax, Arthur,” he murmured, leaning forward to place a kiss on the King’s shoulders. “I won’t hurt you. Trust me.” He knew that he was asking a man he’d met only days prior to trust him with something both intimate and potentially painful, but he meant it. He’d go as slowly as Arthur needed him to, even though every fiber of his being was crying out for release.

“I…” Arthur took a breath, visibly forcing himself to relax. “I do. I trust you.”

“Good.” Charming ran his hands down Arthur’s body, from his shoulders to his hips. Arthur obligingly stretched with the touch, dropping his shoulders to the ground, giving himself over completely. “You are glorious,” Charming breathed, in complete awe of the man before him. Catching himself, he added, “For a peasant.”

Arthur smirked, the mischievous twinkle back in his eyes.

Charming had the perverse urge to wipe that smug look off of his face. Slowly, still careful even in his passion, he pushed into the King. Inch by inch, Arthur opened to him. 

Little gasps of half-pain and half-pleasure came from the man. His hands scrabbled at the blanket, bunching into fists, as he took the Prince’s cock.

After what felt like hours of painstaking gentleness, Charming was buried to the hilt in the King. And it felt _amazing_. Arthur was hot and tight and willing and...Charming needed to focus. He was apparently on a hair trigger tonight. He took a deep breath, letting himself back down from that precipice.

“David...you’re so deep…” Arthur breathed, completely ruining Charming’s attempts at calm.

Charming closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “Are you ready, peasant?” he asked, praying that the answer would be an enthusiastic _yes_ , so he could really let go.

Arthur nodded, biting down on his lip, managing to arch his back just a little more. “Make it rough, shepherd,” he said, a little tremble in his voice.

Charming chuckled. “I don’t think I could hold back if I tried.”

Making the first thrust slow, quite in contrast to his words, Charming pulled nearly all the way out of Arthur, provoking a soft, needy whine from the King.

That was too much.

Charming snapped his hips forward, driving his cock into Arthur. His tight grip on the other man’s waist held him steady as the Prince set to work. His rhythm was relentless, pounding in and out of Arthur’s sweet, willing body.

“Such a good lad,” Charming murmured, not really thinking about what he was saying. He’d always been like that, a talker when he caught up in a passionate moment. “Look at how well you take it...so good...so _tight_...” He slowed down a little, not ready to finish just yet, and ran his hands up and down Arthur’s body, through his hair, across his stomach, teasingly along the man’s thick cock.

Arthur whimpered and bucked under Charming’s touch. “David…” he moaned plaintively.

“Oh, you like that?” Charming wrapped his hand around Arthur’s cock, stroking him roughly in beat with his thrusts. The King’s legs trembled. “So eager...I love it...look at you, taking my cock and loving it...such a filthy peasant boy…”

He could tell by the way Arthur’s breath was catching with each moan, the tension in his frame, how unbearably hard his cock was, that the King was nearly there. And, by God, Charming wanted to make him cum. More than that, though, he wanted to see it.

Pulling out, leaving Arthur empty and cold, Charming snapped, “On your back.”

Shaking, Arthur obliged. He laid back on the blanket, panting and sweaty, his cock freely dripping onto his stomach.

Charming pushed his legs apart, hooking the other man’s knees over his hips. In one smooth motion, he was back inside the King. He took a moment to marvel at how easily Arthur took him, now that he was warmed up.

Arthur’s hands clenched in the blankets, his head pitched back in pleasure.

Gripping the other man’s wrists, Charming moved Arthur’s hands to his shoulders. “I’m right here. Grab on to me,” he said. He groaned when Arthur’s strong hands squeezed his shoulders, short nails digging into his skin. He leaned in, bringing his lips to the other man’s for a messy kiss.

Arthur nipped at the Prince’s bottom lip before suddenly throwing his head back, moaning, as Charming’s cock thrust in a little deeper, hitting all the right places.

Watching the King’s every expression, drinking in every little gasp and moan, Charming drove his cock in and out of Arthur’s eager body. The other man’s thick member was trapped between them, its length rubbing against Charming’s stomach, sticky and hot. He kissed at the King’s neck, biting and sucking, then his shoulders.

“David…oh, David...” Arthur moaned, over and over, the Prince’s name a litany of desire on his lips.

Charming was already struggling to keep himself from finishing and that _wasn’t_ helping. “If you keep that up,” he breathed against his ear, “I’m going to cum inside you. Peasant.”

Arthur’s fingers convulsed, digging in, his nails almost certainly breaking skin. His body tensed, legs trembling, back arching, and Charming knew that he was close to the edge.

“Mmm, you like that idea, don’t you?” Charming moved his hand from Arthur’s jaw, down his side, to his hip, holding the other man still so he could pound into him harder. “Some dirty shepherd making a mess of you.” Arthur tried to roll his hips, to get Charming deeper inside of him, but the Prince held him fast. “I’m going to watch you scream out your pleasure while you take my cock, like a good peasant boy.”

Arthur _whined_.

Charming could feel the King’s thick cock twitching, getting somehow even harder. He pushed himself up so he could watch Arthur’s face, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent _O_ for the span of a few heartbeats before the man’s orgasm crashed over him. Then Arthur was shouting, clawing at Charming’s back, his cock spasming between their bodies, covering the both of them with the evidence of his release.

Charming could feel himself teetering but he forced himself to ride out Arthur’s orgasm, so he could watch the whole thing. It was an exercise in self-control to feel the King’s body clenching around his length, to watch him scream...but it had been worth it. However, now that it was over...

“My turn,” Charming growled, moving his hands back to Arthur’s face, his hair, his beard, his lips, letting his fingers wander all over the man’s handsome visage. There was still a part of Charming that couldn’t believe this was happening, that King Arthur Pendragon wanted _him_.

As if Arthur could read the awed look on the Prince’s face, he let out a little chuckle. “Go on then, my filthy shepherd boy,” he said, rolling his hips invitingly. “Keep your word. Make a mess of me.”

Charming let out a soft _unf_. He drove his cock into Arthur’s body, a body which was surely over-sensitive from just having orgasmed. But the King took it without complaint, soft little noises catching in his throat.

It only took a few thrusts to push Charming over the edge, where he had been teetering for far too long. He felt the heat build in his lower stomach, his cock aching painfully. He swooped in to kiss Arthur quickly, nuzzle against his beard, before the pleasure was too much and he was just gape-mouthed and gasping. The Prince wasn’t a screamer; he let the waves of pleasure crash over him in relative silence as he released into Arthur’s hot, tight ass. 

Panting, Charming collapsed on top of the other man, his arms wrapped around Arthur’s head, protective and loving. “That was...you are...amazing…” he managed.

Arthur bumped his chin against Charming’s cheek. “I could say the same for you,” he said, his smirk plainly evident in his voice. After a pause, he added, “Thank you, my friend...my shepherd. It was nice to be treated like a common man, for a change.”

Charming laughed, which caused some discomfort for both men, their bodies still sensitive. Carefully, he pulled out of Arthur’s entrance, smiling ruefully, pink tingeing his cheeks. “It was my pleasure, your majesty,” Charming teased.

Arthur arched a brow. “Oh, don’t start that.” He reached up to push his fingers through Charming’s sweat-damp hair. “Perhaps once we return to Camelot, we could arrange to meet in the stables? Go riding?” There was a twinkle in his pretty green eyes that made his meaning unmistakeable.

Charming found himself agreeing without thinking. But, then, he did most things without really thinking. That was part of his charm, or so he liked to tell himself.

After all, what could anyone expect? Dress them in finery, give them kingdoms, but they were still just a shepherd and a peasant underneath.


End file.
